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Thursday, January 14, 2016

So Far

A year ago, I left work, and moved into the (then brand new) homeless shelter in town, followed by moving to another homeless shelter where I rented one of their transitional housing apartments.

It was petrifying.

A year ago, I was still hiding my marriage crumbling, my husband's abandonment and other things from the world.

It was exhausting.

A year ago, I was still weighing my decisions on how they would affect my husband and his feelings about the kids and I, and I was still soliciting his opinion even though he rarely was helpful.

It was frustrating.

A year ago, I was still being manipulated, controlled, lied to, and emotionally abused.

It was brain washing me.

A year ago, I was the only one of us fighting for our marriage and our family.

It was overwhelming.

A year ago, I was still covering up for him, cleaning up his messes, and enabling his poor choices for fear that he would dessert us and in hope that he would finally change.

It was embarassing.

Now, I sit on the couch and I look how far I've come. The children and I have had our own home for over 5 months. I no longer rely on his unreliable assistance for paying rent or bills (or anything at the moment, but that's another story). We have our own address and can have visitors whenever we want (so please come visit). My marriage is publicly on the road to and end, and I no longer feel alone. The weight has been lightened after letting people in. I no longer wait around for input from someone who does not have his children's best interest in mind. I make the decisions, with the help of God or a few trusted friends.

I have asked God to break the chain from the abandonment, lies, control, and abuse. I am free. I can see clearly.

And now, I am fighting for my children and I. I have put us first. I have put my babies first. I still wish I could have had a restored marriage, but I cling to God and his plan for me through this. I pray for my (future) former husband in that he is personally restored.

And now, I have let down the wall, and let the world see what really happened, for hope that he would be accountable, fearing that it would haunt me publicly, however, or that he would make me out to be crazy. Instead, I see his real character shine through, and I know I am not to blame or to be embarrassed. It is him, not me.